The Cullen Chronicles
by shallwedance
Summary: AH AU Bella,determined to keep to what she knows is safe. Edward,reluctant to get involved in anything other than his music. But when they are forced together can they change? With Jasper at the radio station influencing everyones mood,easy isnt an option
1. The Office

_**So I know there are lots of other stories that I should be getting on with but this idea just keeps bugging me. It's all my ideas since Christmas bundled together so shouldn't be too boring...**_

_**STEPHANIE MEYER OWNS ALL OF THESE CHARACTERS AND I OWN NOTHING ETC. **_

_**So ENJOY!**_

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Chapter One

"Good morning and there's your coffee!"

"You're in an unusually chipper mood so early in the morning," I told Angela as I reached for my coffee across the battered old desk, the leather stapled to the top peeling at the corners; the maroon had faded to an unbecoming shade of brown years ago.

"Well you're quite perky as well, how many weeks has it been since you were on time?" was her reply, delivered with a smile to ensure our banter was not replaced by hurt feelings.

"What gives?" we shouted at the same time.

"Ah, ah, ah. I said it first," Angela said, standing by her side of the desk triumphantly shaking a finger at me as I opened my mouth to protest. "Sooo?" She sat down and placed her chin on her clasped hands.

"So what?" If I was going to tell her I was going to stall as long as possible.

"Why are you in a happy mood?!" Angela all but shouted at me before smiling sweetly and batting her eyelashes. I tried my best not to laugh at her head leant to one side: I was not going down without a fight. She apparently knew this and so was apparently going to play the game to get me to spill quicker. Damn her and her wickedly clever ways!

"Don't know what you are on about," I said, determined to be as petulant as possible as I rearranged various papers on my desk. Unfortunately it would take a while as my filing system consisted of dumping whatever it was needing to be stored safely anywhere with enough space not to topple anything over. It worked for me so don't judge.

"Yes you do. Have you met someone? Is that it?" she persisted and leant foreword across the desk, sitting with her knees under her on her chair.

"No! I've given them up for lent!"

"Oh, sorry," she mumbled with a role of her eyes that stated she clearly couldn't believe I would go without flirting for 40 days. "So what is it then?"

"Oh, okay," I gave in. Ungraciously before feeling the excitement fill me up from head to toe. "Emmett agreed to give me an interview!" I couldn't resist: I bounced on my chair, clapped my hands and squealed like a little girl with a new Barbie doll.

Angela's mouth had dropped open, very near hitting the elevated-with-paper desk. "Oh. My. God!" she breathed and I spun round on the office chair.

"How long have I been harassing that poor secretary for an interview?" I asked as Angela just clutched her arm rests, her mouth going like a fish. "Will you do the photos for me?" I asked and when she nodded mutely I hurled myself around (no need to exacerbate the paper problem) the table and launched myself at her.

We both fell onto the floor and startled giggling 'thank you's.

"Erm, am I interrupting something?"

Angela and I looked up from the floor, very slowly passed the long legs concealed behind smart trousers, up the lean torso barely covered by the silk shirt that flowed over the muscles everyone knew were under there, noting the contrast between that very same shirt pushed up to the elbows revealing his beautiful skin over beautifully toned forearms and up into the quizzical face with that Colgate smile, of Jacob Black. Chief Editor. Our boss. And too crush-worthy for words. He was gay of course.

"No, not at all," I said, propping myself up on my own scrawny elbows. I looked at Angela still lying on the floor trying to hide her giggles behind a hand clasped to her mouth. I bit on my knuckles as I tried to tell him the good news but kept breaking down with convulsions of laughter. He just looked so darned funny!

"Okay… I'm gonna go," he said haltingly, probably deciding if it was safe to leave us on our own.

"No! We're sane now, I swear!" I shouted before he even turned to leave. He raised his eyebrows and, with a pointed look at Angela who was now curled up in the foetal position, clearly relayed the message that he highly doubted that. I offered him my hand and he pulled me up.

"I bring good news!" I beamed up at him as I straightened out my skirt.

"Oh really?" he asked, raising one eyebrow at me and leaning on the door frame, his head bowed so his head wouldn't hit the top of it.

"Guess who I just landed an interview with…" I said, a grin on my face so wide my muscles began to ache. I mimed playing on a computer.

"No idea," he said with a mischievous smile on his face.

"Oh you're no fun!" I shouted at him.

"Now I wouldn't say that's very fair," he mused with a twinkle in his eyes. I pouted and glared at him. "Oh I give up, tell me. You're about to burst."

It was true. So I took a big breath to shriek "Emmett Cullen!" Black's face fell as my words sunk in and then in two strides he'd grabbed my and was parading me round our tiny office.

"Ah Bells! Now you be nice to him and maybe he'll agree to sponsor something, Lord knows we need new computers everywhere! and printers and, and, and…" he seemed to run out of steam as he thought of the possibilities and I stood (or rather floated) there waiting for him to put me back on the ground instead of leaving me suspended between his hands like King Kong. Carefully he placed me down as he saw my expression and I started tapping my foot with my hands on my hips. Before I could speak or say anything about the whereabouts of my congratulations he'd given my a kiss on the forehead and was skipping down the corridor muttering about "Emmett Cullen" in an awed voice.

"What about my 'finally, all your hard work paying off, Bella'? Where's that, eh?" I shouted after him.

He turned back to bellow: "Isabella Swan you are a genius!" before stopping and adding "you might want to check out Angela, she was looking a little short of breath when I saw her." He soon carried on his way.

"Well. That was an experience, Ange," I said with a huff sitting down. "Ange?" I sat up in my chair. "Angela!"

She rolled over and signalled at her bag.

"Oh, sorry!" I fished in the bag and pulled out the inhaler before chucking it at her. She looked rather red. I stared out of the window at the view of the city. It was indescribable: the hubbub of so many peoples all strangers but so close somehow. I could feel something just waiting to happen.

"Hey Ange?" I asked her when she'd sat back down, looking a little flustered but intact none-the-less.

"Hmmm?" was her mumbled answer.

"When did you turn to Gucci?" I asked signalling the new tote that sat by her feet.

"She smiled, shrugged before relaying to me the events of her weekend.

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_**Any good? So review and let me know how you think it went!**_

_**Cheers**_

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	2. The Replacement

**Hi guys! Another chapter and I hope you enjoy. It's really just a filler but quite important to the story, I think, so bear with it!**

**Disclaimer: I own nada. It is devastating, I know**

**Okay, so I have revised this chapter and hopefully made it a little easier to follow so review and tell me if I was successful**

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_Chapter Two_

**JASPER'S POV**

I was jerked awake by the opening chords of today's apparent ring tune: 'Breathe' by the beautiful Blu Cantrell with enough lip-gloss to… do something drastic under the topic of lip-gloss. And Sean Paul. That man you can't decide whether to admit his tunes are quite catchy, or sit in denial trying not to let the beat affect the feet you're going to glue firmly to the floor. I was swinging towards the latter option of hatred as I was dragged from the comfortable fog of the unconscious.

I fumbled on the bedside table for the phone, before pulling it to an inch from my nose and squinting to focus on the tiny screen. I gave up trying to read the caller ID and decided the only person it could be this early would be my darling ex-girlfriend, the one behind the sex-tastic ring tune and therefore the reason behind the 'ex–' status.

"Seriously, darling I'm sorry but as I said yesterday it just can't work. I'm sorry and I'll bring your stuff round later. We can talk then," I said as soon as I lifted the phone to my ear, trying to be not patronising or offensive, but understanding and helpful, but so EARLY – I hadn't looked at a clock yet – it was a struggle.

"Okay, love you too," a gruff voice said at the end of the line. I sat bolt upright on the king-sized water-bed kitted out with tacky fake leopard fur throw, a present from the ex.

"Huh?" I cursed my morning eloquence. I'd tried hard enough to throw off the shackles of the male model stereotype and here I was, monosyllabic and incredibly slow. The voice at the end forced out a laugh.

"Hi." It was now a girl's voice.

"Huh?" I repeated. Wow, I was on fire this morning.

"It's Angela." She sounded weary and tired. She'd apparently put on the 'male' voice to catch my attention, and I didn't seem nearly so tired now I had to concentrate.

"Oh, hey Angela!" I shouted out whilst lying back stretching out on the bed: she wouldn't mind my being slow. "You alright, you sound rough! Is Ben being nice, not making you run round like a little servant of his. I know his mum employs people just to fluff the pillows, but I've told him he just can't keep that lifestyle up, working on that radio station of his. How is he anyway?"

"Oh it's awful!" she said back, her voice cracking with barely concealed distress that made me spring back up into a sitting position, brushing aside the vulgar comforter and placing my feet on the floor, ready to come help out.

"Ange?" I asked cautiously, "what's wrong? Is he alright? Are you alright?"

She gulped at the other end. "Yeah, he should be fine…" She didn't seem so sure and, understandably, distracted.

"What happened, hun?" I asked, squeezing the phone between my ear and shoulder as I put some socks on and started to get dressed, finding relatively clean clothes under the dirty clothes draped over the back of the black leather office chair in my bedroom.

"Oh God," she said, probably remembering it. It took a lot to faze her like this, so it must be bad. My mouth had gone dry.

"Hey, hey it's ok. What happened," I soothed, hiding my own worry for the man that put all common sense to the side when it came to pop tunes.

"I got home from the office and through the front door to his apartment because I was going to stay at his for the weekend," she said with a lack of expression that meant I wasn't the first to have been told. I nodded at my end to offer morale support of the silent type as I was swigging a quick breakfast all at once, shoving cornflakes in my mouth at the same time as the milk and chasing it down with some coffee that, too late, I realized was still scalding. I stifled my protests as I took a gulp of water and muffled the consequent choking noises with my fist as she continued:

"I found him, at the bottom of the stairs covered in all those damn records! I told him there were too many and it wasn't safe but did he listen?" Before I could answer she'd continued. "No he bloody didn't and now look at the mess he's got himself into."

"Well?"

"He's broken is freakin' leg and fractured his arm and his face looks as if he's been found by a wrestler who needed anger management classes! Thankfully it was just shallow cuts and no internal bleeding or anything but I have never been so scared," she ended with a whisper. Oh shit! I said as much.

"Oh shit."

"You're telling me!" she said with a weak chuckle of relief before going silent for a minute. "Thank goodness the bookcase didn't fall down too otherwise…" I could hear her shudder at the end of the line which she had delivered with despair at what could have been.

"Well hopefully he'll have learnt his lesson by now, that we know best, eh? And the bookcase didn't fall down, thank goodness, so he should take note of the luck that he possesses. So is he gonna be OK?" I asked figuring that she couldn't be angry at him if he wasn't going to be around to be angry at.

"Should be but he's getting his cast on at the hospital now. He wanted me to come outside and ask you…" she trailed off, never one to ask for favours.

"Ange, seriously, anything I can do to help would make me feel less of a useless lump. What's he want now, the little tit. He's always causing complications, that one." My attempt at a joke so early on (I'd seen the clock. It was 5:30. AM. I was not impressed) included insults, sarcasm and cynicism. It was automatic. At least it got a laugh out of her.

"Oh not much, just running the morning radio show for him for the next couple months. I can't drive him and those hours are ridiculous and he can't afford taxis and we can't get anyone else on such short notice…"

My mouth dropped and my fingers went slack as I fell back on the bed. The phone landed next to me and I could just hear Angela on the other end.

"Jasper? _Jasper? _Jazz!"

"Um, yeah… Sure. How many weeks again?" I said hoarsely, turning my face into the microphone of the phone so I needn't pick it up.

"Months, Jazz not weeks. If you can't do it for that long, could you just fill in for a few days til someone else can do? Could you show him the ropes? You've filled in before on holidays and stuff and I don't know anyone else more capable… Jazz, please, that damned place means everything to the ditzy man-"

Before she could continue I had picked up my keys and was out the front door.

"I wouldn't normally ask and I'll find someone else ASAP, I promise."

"Hey, it's fine I don't mind. I'll pull Edward along with all his musical connections. Tell Ben I'll do this thing so well he won't want to come back as he won't be able to match the show I can put on!"

"Oh thank you so much!! When Ben's out of hospital I am going to throw you a massive party I could kiss you just now!" she shouted with a weight off her shoulders as I flew down the final flight of stairs on the banister, bolstered on the feeling of a man on a mission. Albeit in the dark.

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**A stressful day at work and this is what I have been mulling over. It's quite short I know so review and say hi!**

**Thanks**

**XD**


	3. The Apartment and The Collision

**_Longest chapter for quite a while so ENJOY! I am going to leave this for a while so I can revise some biology. (For instance, did you know that diffusion is the movement of particles in a gas or solution _down _a concentration gradient?)_**

**_Thanks to Taay and Laughing Bubbles 18 for the reviews!_**

_**Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight**_

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_Chapter Three_

**Alice's POV**

I sat up startled in bed, screaming quietly as I forgot about the camp-bed's tendency to snap closed with sudden movements. I leapt out of bed and landed on the floor as the two sides flew together and crashed onto the floor with a tremendous noise. I clutched at my hammering heart as I waited to return to normal and get used to the freezing stone floor I had landed on.

The cause for this was the different voice on the radio. I recognised the voice but on further thought, I couldn't for the life of me remember whose it was. Al I know is that it calmed me and I laid down with the radio next to my head as his voice swept over me. I pulled the duvet from the vice-like grip of the stupid bed to curl up in as I was afraid hypothermia would set in when I realised what he was saying.

"Filling in for a few months-" it was muffled as I reorganised myself so I could reach out and turn the volume up a bit. "He'll be alright but the show must go on! And I am here to do it."

And then, with a yelp from me, it clicked. He was the male model, so full of witty charm, that had captivated the attention of every women and gay on set; and the male model who had kissed me under the mistletoe. My breath hitched just thinking about it. He had taken my hand, picked me up so I could touch the mistletoe with his hand around mine, before placing me on the floor and kissing each finger on the knuckle as I watched mutely, not trusting myself to speak. I'd looked up at him and he'd smiled back at me. His eyes had sparkled and aware that I couldn't take much more I threw every watt of charm I possessed into my smile.

"I do believe that that, Mr. Hale, constitutes as _four_ kisses," I'd managed, if a little breathlessly.

"I don't recall hearing any such rule stating there can only be one," he had quipped back before planting a quick, chaste kiss upon my lips and turning away.

Now, sat on the cold stone floor I ran my finger over my lips. It had been over a year since then, the first shoot for the male clothing line for the next spring. My female clothing line had gone from strength to strength and, with Jasper (I physically quivered at the name) as the main sales model, so had the male line pulling in enough of a profit for me to buy this rather expensive(for the state it was in) apartment in the city. It was going to be my new home. Once I had finished. Currently a gas heater slept in the corner, there was no staircase to get upstairs and the windows were held together with duct tape. I looked around my apartment with a sigh. Interior design was my next step. I had designed a range of furniture but I also wanted to go freelance and do everything inside. It was what I was originally trained to do and my heart skipped at the thought of literally living what I loved.

I looked at the radio as, sounding agitated, Jasper faded out the end of the song.

"Hey guys, sorry! I haven't done this in a while so bear with me!"

He sounded slightly terrified of messing up and agitated at everything. I began to feel the same, doubting my ability to do this house justice. Agitation at wanting to get started began butterflies deep in my stomach but I kept procrastinating over every little task with fear. In the end I turned the radio off with a heart-felt wrench from that beautiful voice. I had a feeling that this day was not going to go too well…

And I was right. All morning it took ages to get anything done. I decided to make plans but found myself really indecisive and it freaked me out that my mood could change so quickly. I had fallen asleep confident, as always, and here I was, an emotional wreck who couldn't decide whether she wanted a drink even though she felt light-headed and dehydrated. I blamed the radio. He'd left me in this stupid mood. So I put my Wham! CD on and started measuring to 'Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go' and shaking my hips as I did, feeling in a marginally better mood if a little jumpy and irritated. It really was strange.

***

**Bella's POV**

I ran up the steps to the building that towered ominously over the entire city. Made mainly of glass its many facets twinkled in the early afternoon sunshine as wispy clouds swam around just above the tip. I took a deep breath and, finishing my iced tea, launched it at the bin and wrinkled my nose at all the discarded cigarette ends. I felt nervous, agitated and, for the first time in my career, downright scared. But still I made a beeline to the front desk, modern glass structures with latest edition computers, and smiled sweetly at the receptionist who directed me to the fifteenth floor.

As I made my way to the elevators I couldn't help but become mesmerised by my surroundings. A light and airy cavern of a room with tinted glass walls in a massive oval shape, a huge glass tube signalling the middle twelve lifts were being operated. The reception desk was off to the side of entrance and escalators that gently glided to their different destinations. The desk was a royal blue that blended in nicely with the sky colour of the elevators and the blue tinge of the elevator. Old, knotted pine boards on the floor, smooth with wear, made every footstep sound crisp and important as people began checking out for lunch or walking to the lovely looking canteen with steel-blue tables and a noisy hubbub of chatter. I smiled to everyone I saw, amazed at the massive scale as I clutched my bag and made my way up to the games department of the building.

The floor in the elevator was, thankfully, not glass but what looked like cherry wood and led nicely onto the thick, maroon carpet that led to the black desk at the end of the short corridor directly in front of the elevator. On the wall behind hung action shots of the members of staffs avatars in various games. They were caricature of each and I smiled at the sense of humour that lived here, on this floor at least.

"Isabella Swan? From the paper?" the man behind the desk asked, picking up the phone and looking at me for confirmation.

"Right," I nodded and he quickly dialled the extension before telling me to take a seat in one of the chairs off to the left. I saw a massive leather couch backed against the matt black wall and let out a gasp at the beauty of it. It was maroon to match the carpet and the legs were intricate carvings from a rich, dark wood. Buttons at frequent intervals gave the leather a beautiful texture. As I inspected it closer, a goofy grin on my face, I noticed a hand, roughly carved out of a similar looking wood protruding out from underneath. I laughed as I knelt down to see better before relaxing on the couch, legs crossed and foot tapping to the not-so-quiet music of the games department: The All American Rejects. Currently the chorus of 'I Wanna' was moving all around me and I stifled a snort just as the most massive man I had ever seen came round the corner. I had calmed down a bit by now, thankfully and I grinned up at the man at least a foot taller than me. He was more muscular than Jacob but not quite as tall, but definitely over 6 foot. He let out a booming laugh as he saw me staring and I blushed before sticking my hand out.

"Bella Swan!" I said loudly.

"Emmett Cullen, nice to meet you…" he looked at my left hand, "Miss Swan."

"Likewise Mr. Cullen," I said back, feigning snobiness. He chuckled as the chorus came on again.

"Daring music taste you've got here," I said as he helped me from the bottomless couch of such comfort I missed it already.

"Glad you like it. And the couch. It was a recent investment." He said with a wink as he led me through the maze of corridors.

"Not too soon to claim some poor soul though, I see."

"Well it doesn't get that padded and comfortable without a little stuffing," was his explanation. "So, what did you want to know? My poor secretary was in tears after missing my important calls because 'some journalist' wouldn't leave her alone," he said, but with a twinkle in his eye that was almost approval of my actions. I grinned sheepishly.

"I brought her a thank you card and I'm going to make her a 'Sorry' one. Remind me to take a picture of the hand on my way out," I said, more to myself.

"Wow, and you're already bossing me about!" he said with a laugh that echoed around the large corridor. I bushed and focused my attention on even more pictures, mid-battle, adorning the walls. "Admiring the art work?" he asked, looking around. "It would be easy enough to make you one, if you'd like. I can get one of the lads to quickly do one. If we go now he can get the pictures he needs and then by the time the Spanish Inquisition is over it should be done!" he became really animated as he talked through the process.

I really wanted to say yes. Really, really badly. But my polite nature stepped in the way. "Oh I couldn't put anyone out of their way," I began.

"Nonsense, I can see you want to say yes! Follow me."

And with relief I followed him to a cramped room with so many desks, each with multiple Apple screens of the newest and biggest variety. It was so noisy with all the machines and games sound effects and Cullen stood for second, hands on hips with a glimmer of pride in his eye. It was quite a serious pose. Before he grinned so wide and took me over to a young man who had on some huge earphones, his tongue stuck out of his mouth and a face of concentration so intense that his boss had to plant two massive hands on his shoulders and peering over his shoulder at the screens. The man jumped out of his seat and spun round so quickly I leant back.

"Bella, this is Mike our Resident Nerd; Resident Nerd, this is Bella the Journalist… well shake her hand!"

Mike gave me a grin from freckly cheek to freckly cheek and I grasped his hand with an equally big grin on my face.

"Mike, you know what to do!" and with that, Mike was hoisted from his chair and Emmett sat down with his fingers steepled in front of his face, elbows on the arm rest as he watched Mike pull a green screen from a tube at the top of the wall for me to stand in front of.

As I did as Mike told me, laughing lots as he told me to pull different faces of battle-like menace, I caught Cullen's eye once or twice, me grinning as I did so and him giving me a wink.

Once it was over, I got to choose which game I was going to be in, and therefore which outfit. I couldn't help but clap my hands as I chose and skipped off to the interview in a much more relaxed manner, dying for the moment when I could see the picture. I was a bit of a games dork.

Eventually, with the interview over I thanked Cullen and he led me back to my now-favourite room and there, standing in the entrance was a framed picture of a cartoon me, standing out in the middle of a battle and I gasped and tried to contain my excited squeal. I failed and I ran in to give Mike a hg, not caring how inappropriate.

"Glad you like it! Can we keep that one up? I've got another copy right here," he said and lifted out a drawing tube.

"Sure! And when the article is out you can stick a copy of that in with it!" I said gleefully before giving him another hug, peck on the cheek and "thank you" before I had to go.

***

I got outside, basking in the bright sunshine before making my way to my car. I should have got a cab but my car helped calm me and relax me before a big interview like this one. I looked at it sat in the sun and decided to take the top off my little MG convertible. It gleamed a dazzling red in the light and I loved it. Glad I wore jeans to do this I bent over and started undoing the buckles.

As I stood up, arching my back to release it of the cramp that had developed due to taking so long over the top another car sped into the little parking lot and into a reserved space. I just about stopped breathing at the Racing Green car parked next to mine and watched as a blonde got out of the passenger side nearest me, and I saw a flash of bronze over the other side. The blonde saw me staring, open-mouthed

"Edward! Looks like you have an admirer for that damned car of yours!" the tall blonde laughed and 'Edward' came round the side. He was almost as beautiful as the car.

"Is that a Jaguar E-type?" I breathed. It was my dream car. I had always wanted that car since I had been a little girl and seen it on the road. It was elegant and beautiful and all things wonderful and I was so incredibly jealous of the owner that it almost hurt.

"Yep," he said, patting the roof. I flinched at his cuffs, maybe scratching the paintwork. He seemed to notice and laughed at my face. "Don't worry, it's fine," he reassured me.

"Oh, sorry! I have to get going," I lied. I had nothing else for the day.

"That red really suits that car. I think the others suit red better but that is perfect," he said with awe.

"Yours is good in the Racing Green," I blurted out. I'd seen them in every colour and that green was my overall favourite.

"Well, thank you," he said with a bow of his head. "Jazz, you go inside, I'll be there in a minute," he said and something clicked.

"Oh! Did you fill in for the radio station this morning?" I asked and Jasper gave a nod of his head and an uncomfortable grin.

"It wasn't that good," he said, disappointed.

"No it was surprisingly well done for someone who hasn't had a go in a while. My friend Alice sent me a text as soon as the show started. She recognised you!" I laughed as his face lit up and he jogged into the building with a spring in his step. Edward looked at me from the corner of his eye. I stared back before looking away. it was a bit annoying.

"What?" I snapped. He didn't answer. "I have to go now, okay?" I asked as if talking to a child. "I'll see you around." It seemed the polite thing to say and with that I catapulted myself over the door and set off.

I tried not to knock him over but he didn't move and as I got more agitated, turning up my Black Eyed Peas tape so he could hear I didn't care for him I gripped the steering wheel from the crazy day I had had. Slowly I looked both ways and checked as the adverts tell you to and pulled out into the stream of traffic. Before a young girl ran into the path of my car. With a scream I swerved and to a chorus of beeping horns span, praying I hadn't hit the girl as my heart just about leapt from my chest.

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**_You like? So REVIEW and applaud my ability to remember that active transport is the movement of particles through a partially permeable membrane _up _a concentration gradient..._**

**_And also the long chapter. I never do chapters this long. But I like it! And so shall continue listening to The Coral and planning the next one_**

**_Cheers!_**


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